Page 40 of His in the Dark

Quickly I dress and search for Hades, only to find him right outside the doors.

HADES

The soul is half-dead, only the remnants of his being clinging to the flesh I’ve damaged. The anger in me is not satisfied. Not in the least as I hover over him, the rage nearly blinding. He cries no longer for mercy. He speaks to more of sorrow and regret. Blood pools on the floor, spreading out from what was once identifiable as his body. There can’t be much left, and soon it will trickle out onto the tiles, and his soul will be taken for judgment.

Each blow was a soothing balm. The rage could only be held in for so long. He must’ve known it was coming. What torture it must’ve been for him to walk beside me, knowing what was to come of his fate but not knowing when it would be delivered.

She bathed and cleansed herself. I sought his punishment to cleanse myself as well. It is not surprising that I struck the first blow the moment the heavy quartz doors closed.

The guard to my right is silent and still. Standing straight and at attention. I barely hear him, focused on the man in my grasp.

He will stand before the judges stained with my disapproval.How dare he.That's all I can think. The rage is something I’ve not known before. One to be untamed and in the back of my mind, my anger is at myself as well. And Minox.

But this soul takes the brunt of it all.

A sound at the door distracts me from the task at hand. I glance up to find Persephone crossing the threshold, her eyes wide, then wider as she takes in the scene.

One moment her pure innocence is easily seen, her gown drifting slightly behind her with her stride and the next, her eyes full of shock and horror at the sight.

She hovers at the boundary, her toes almost in the pool of blood, her hands trembling. Her hair is beautifully braided, freshly bathed and so innocent. Perhaps I should have dealt this judgement elsewhere. Not just outside the doors of the baths but I could not wait. I’d already waited for privacy too long.

“Hades,” she speaks my name as if a prayer of despair. Not the way I envision. Her words echo, sounding larger than they are.

“I changed my mind,” I tell her without context and the confusion and horror on her face only aid me in my realization. “You may not seek pleasure in the guards.”

I deal one last blow to the thing at my feet and turn to study her more closely.

Pale skin. Pale lips. Her terror is palpable, but it’s not her brush with disaster that terrifies her.

It’sme.

Her brows draw together as I watch her. Can’t she feel the pull between us? Can’t she feel how a little blood could never break it? Terror won’t be enough.

I gesture at the guard, who is hardly a man anymore. “He coveted what was mine.”

Persephone’s mouth drops open. “Youofferedme to him.”

Her misunderstanding is frustrating. "No, I offered him to you, and you did not wish such things."

There is quite a difference. He took it upon himself to present an offer. He dared to fantasize what was not his. Now he shall suffer a loss. Just as I have.

I will deal with Minox later. And my own wayward thoughts.

“This? This was his own doing,” I tell her, knowing full well the blood on my knuckles will come clean.

Persephone takes a step back from the spreading blood, but it won’t be enough. The blood will continue to pool until there is no more left, and even after the guard’s final heartbeat, the circle around him will grow until a servant comes to clear it away.

"I want nothing to do with this," Persephone says, swallowing hard. Her eyes drop to the mess at my feet. "I shall never love a monster like you."

Taken aback from her statement that echoes in the halls of the baths, I steady myself. The anger replaced with something else.

I take a deep breath and calm myself. This… this is nothing. If she is to be Queen of the Dead, this kind of judgment should not weigh on her as it appears it does. The Fates promised me. They swore to me…

I remind myself of the deal I made before telling Persephone, staring into her gorgeous eyes filled with terror. "You are worthy, and what you knew before is no longer." Her eyes come to mine. "Enjoy what I give you, my queen. It was always yours to have."

"I did not ask for this," she whispers. Her gaze attempts to leave mine, and I position myself between her and the nearly dead soul.

“No one asks for Fate.” That is the very nature of fate itself. It does not come when Gods or mortals bid. It isfate.The fact that Persephone is choosing not to understand after a lifetime among the Gods tries my patience.

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